


Fantasy

by bepreparedf0rhell



Category: Motionless in White (Band)
Genre: A little fantasizing, Just a little tho, M/M, a little fluff kind of, a little masturbation, because there's choking, is anyone surprised there's choking?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:42:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22598782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bepreparedf0rhell/pseuds/bepreparedf0rhell
Summary: In which Justin's got a fantasy.
Relationships: Justin Morrow/Ricky "Horror" Olson
Comments: 16
Kudos: 17





	Fantasy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dysphorie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dysphorie/gifts).



> hello my name is brittany and i absolutely cannot be stopped, thank you so much.
> 
> this was a kind-of prompt from my lovely wonderful amazing friend/emotional support creacher [dysphorie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dysphorie).
> 
> sequel to this: [reality](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23289010).

Justin’s fucking had it. He’s had a rough day - a rough week, actually, and he’s just fucking had it. He storms home from the recording studio, drops his things just inside the door of his apartment, kicks off his boots and socks, and stomps to the couch. 

“Fuck,” he groans as he slams his body down into the cushions of the couch, his tired limbs stretching out at all angles and his head lolling back against the back of the couch. 

He’s hungry and he knows damn well he’s going to regret not eating later, but it’s just not what he’s currently concerned with. Instead, he unzips his jeans and shimmies out of them, throwing them across the room and grunting annoyedly when they strike a piece of art that’s hanging on the wall and very nearly knock it off. 

He strips off his t-shirt and his underwear, leaving himself completely nude as he sits on the couch. He’s never been someone who’s had a complex about being nude even in front of other people, so sitting in his apartment on his own couch wearing nothing at all doesn’t phase him. In fact, it sort of turns him on. 

He’d already been half-hard when he’d walked in the door; frustration and annoyance tended to bring that out in him. Now as he sits there with his long arms stretched out to either end of the couch, he doesn’t even need porn to get himself the rest of the way there. No, all he needs are thoughts of a certain bandmate of his and his perfect little neck. 

Images of Ricky float to the front of Justin’s mind and he sighs and relaxes into the couch a little more, taking a deep breath. His dick’s all the way hard now, ready and waiting. His eyes flutter closed as he reaches for himself, running a few slow strokes up and down his length and making himself let out a whisper of a moan. 

“Oh… god,” he mumbles, his hand still lazily running up and down his dick. His brain is turning more and more to mush by the second as he strokes himself, pushes himself closer and closer to the release he’s absolutely fucking desperate for. 

A second later, his eyes open and he reaches for his phone where he’d dumped it nearby on the couch. He pulls up an album he’s got vaguely disguised with the title “misc. shit” even though the cover is clearly a photo he’d taken of Ricky one day when he’d fallen asleep on the bus with his head fallen back, exposing the entirety of his pale white tattooed neck. 

The album is full of photos of Ricky; Ricky alone, Ricky and Justin himself, Ricky and Chris. Basically anything Justin caught a particular interest in and felt the need to save for later. 

Justin’s always had a thing for a good throat, always been into choking and giving hickeys and whatever else, but something about Ricky’s neck… god, something about Ricky’s neck. 

Justin starts working himself faster as he pictures his hand around Ricky’s throat, pushing him backwards until he runs into a wall. He pictures squeezing it, watching as Ricky’s eyes close in pleasure. 

He pictures sneaking into Ricky’s bunk on the bus, crawling in next to him and putting a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet while his other hand makes its way to feel every angle of his throat and eventually his teeth make their way there, biting into the soft skin and making Ricky let out a muffled scream as he reaches for Justin’s dick. 

“Jesus,” Justin gasps, annoyed he’s almost already there. He wishes it could go on forever, that he could ride the high of the fantasy for as long as he wants to. But, all his frustration and every little thing from the bad week he’s had is building in his belly and he knows he’s going to come soon. 

He absently wishes he would’ve thought to grab something to control the mess, but whatever. It’s not like he’s never come on the couch before. In fact, he makes a mental note to maybe get the couch cleaned… 

“Oh,” he whispers, his toes curling as his legs extend out under the coffee table. “Oh…” 

He’s really going now, ready to throw himself over the cliff. Just as he’s about to get there, just as a strangled moan is escaping his lips, just as he’s about to explode, there’s a knock on the front door. 

“Fuck,” he grumbles, rage thick in his tone.

“Fuck off!” he yells, refusing to take his hand off of himself. Whoever the hell is on the other side of the door has already robbed him of his orgasm in the moment he’d needed it so badly, there was no way in hell he was about to get up, get dressed, and bother to see who it was. 

A moment passes and Justin thinks he’s in the clear, but then there’s another knock, this time accompanied by someone yelling his name outside the door. 

“Justin!” 

The voice makes him freeze, his dark eyes going as wide as humanly possible. It’s Ricky. Oh, fuck, it’s Ricky. 

“I’m… busy,” Justin calls, terror flashing through his mind when he realizes he absolutely forgot to lock the front door when he’d stepped inside. The knob is turning; he can see it and hear it and there’s no way in hell he’s going to be able to cover up by the time Ricky makes his way inside. 

“Jus, I need that guitar you said I could borrow,” Ricky’s saying, but Justin feels like he’s underwater. He has no clue what’s being said to him, feels like he’s about to black the fuck out. 

Ricky’s not looking at him somehow, doesn’t see him sprawled across the couch literally holding his dick in his hand. A few seconds pass that feel like a few years and Ricky’s head is turning and Justin’s holding his breath. 

Ricky’s eyes finally find him and lock on to him and Justin feels like he could come just because of the look of surprise on Ricky’s face.

Ricky slams the still-open door shut behind himself and locks it forcefully before turning to fully regard Justin. 

Justin’s heart feels like it’s going to pound right out of his chest when Ricky’s wordlessly walking towards him a second later with a look on his face that Justin is absolutely positive is lust. 

“What were you looking at?” Ricky asks as he sits at one end of the couch, sizing Justin’s naked body up in a way that makes his mouth go dry. He’s not sure he could speak even if he wanted to, so he just shoves his phone across the couch to show him. 

Ricky studies it, looking at the photos of himself and then back up at Justin with a huge grin on his face. 

“You were jacking off to me?” he asks, and Justin nods. 

“Specifically your neck. I…” he trails off when Ricky starts nodding. 

“I know you like choking. Everyone knows you like choking,” Ricky says with a small shrug. 

Justin’s still frozen, nerves that he wouldn’t have expected gripping him violently. 

“You were about to come, weren’t you?” Ricky asks, taking a good look at Justin’s dick and the dark flush in his cheeks. Justin nods and Ricky does too, reaching for the hand Justin still has curled around his own dick. Justin gives it to him, only able to focus on how fucking huge his hand feels compared to the one Ricky’s got wrapped around it. 

Ricky raises Justin’s hand to his throat and pushes it against it, watching Justin expectantly until some of his consciousness seems to float back to him and he realizes what Ricky’s expecting. Justin curls his long fingers around Ricky’s throat, closing his eyes when it feels exactly like he’d expected it to. The skin is so fucking soft and so is Ricky’s hair as it brushes up against him.

“Fuck,” Justin mumbles, his eyes opening when he feels Ricky pushing against his hand. 

“Kiss me. Now,” Ricky demands, and Justin does as he’s told. He pulls Ricky in with the hand he’s still got on his throat, squeezing it just lightly. Ricky whines quietly as their lips meet and Justin feels like his soul’s entirely leaving his body. 

Ricky’s kiss is urgent, pleading, and Justin can’t fucking believe they’ve never done this before. 

“Oh my fucking god,” he mumbles into Ricky’s lips a second later when a hand that’s not his own finds its way around his dick. “Oh… oh, god.”

“Let me make you feel good,” Ricky coos, and Justin nods, unable to stop his head from falling back against the back of the couch once more and his eyes slipping closed. His hand drops from Ricky’s neck just because he doesn’t have the brain power to keep it there and goddamn it, he’s still so fucking close to coming he can almost taste it. 

Ricky’s moving beside him and Justin’s eyes snap open just in time to see him dropping to his knees on the floor. Justin moves the leg of his that’s in the way and then Ricky’s between his legs, his lips meeting the tip of his dick. 

Ricky takes his entire length into his mouth, making him cry out in a moan unlike any he’s ever heard come out of his own mouth. Jesus christ, Ricky’s fucking good. He’s even better than Justin had fantasized, and all it takes is him working his dick in and out of his mouth a couple of times for Justin to feel like he’s about to explode. 

“I’m going to… oh fuck, I’m going to… you don’t have to… you don’t…” he’s trying to tell him he doesn’t have to swallow but can’t manage the words and Ricky’s slightly shaking his head around his dick anyway. 

“Shut up,” Ricky mumbles, and Justin can feel the vibration of the back of his throat on his dick and stars burst in front of his eyes as he comes into Ricky’s mouth with another strangled cry. 

Ricky takes every drop expertly, working Justin through the orgasm and the aftershocks slowly and gently, his hands reaching their way up to caress Justin’s thighs and hips and stomach as he ruts up against him, various small noises still slipping through his lips. 

When Justin finally seems to be all the way through it, Ricky lets his dick fall out of his mouth slowly and immediately Justin aches for him. He misses his hands, misses his mouth, but he doesn’t have to for long because a second later Ricky’s back beside him on the couch and his lips are locking with his once more. 

“Was it everything you imagined?” Ricky asks as he pulls out of the kiss a moment later, and Justin sighs heavily and closes his eyes. 

“I’ll let you know when my brain turns back on, if it ever does,” he says quietly, his mouth feeling like it’s full of marbles. 

“I’ll take it,” Ricky says, leaning back into the corner of the couch, a wide smile on his face as he watches Justin come down.

**Author's Note:**

> wheresyoursavior.tumblr.com


End file.
